Falls the Sword
by Every Shade of Blue
Summary: Quite simply, Will's death from his own POV, but third person limited, mostly, rather than first person. Will's thoughts and feelings as he becomes Captain of the Flying Dutchman, and leaves behind the woman he loves. Wilabeth, of course! Rated T just because it's about someone dying, and for some minor language later on.
1. Fade Away

****To anyone who is waiting for an update on "In Dreams": I promise there will be one shortly. Maybe even two chapters at once! In the meantime, though, this story is coming along quite well and I wanted to start posting. This is just a short chapter to introduce the situation - which is one I'm sure you're familiar with - and to establish Will's POV. The next chapter will be longer.

**Disclaimer**: No copyright infringement is intended. I'm simply a girl with too much imagination who likes to play with fictional characters who don't belong to me.

* * *

**Falls the Sword**

Chapter 1: Fade Away

She was the woman of his dreams, and he had wanted to marry her for years; twenty minutes ago, he finally had.

Now he was lying on the deck of the nightmare ship, the Flying Dutchman, with a sword at his throat, and the cold words of Davy Jones ringing in his ears:

"Tell me, William Turner… do you fear death?"

_No_, he thought defiantly, but he wasn't going to answer, no matter what happened.

And then another voice from somewhere behind Jones, throwing the question back at him:

"Do you?"

Jones spun quickly, turning away from Will, moving to the side enough for Will to see Jack Sparrow – sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow – with Jones' heart in one hand and a broken sword in the other.

Relief: his pulse slowed and his breathing calmed. He turned toward Elizabeth, saw her smile back at him.

Jones was still staring at Jack.

"You're a cruel man, Jack Sparrow."

"Cruel is a matter of perspective."

"Is it?"

And then Jones moved, he was spinning back around and his sword was in his hand – that damned sword – and then Will's whole world exploded…

* * *

Pain, white-hot and burning, tearing mercilessly through him; the blade was twisted in the wound, torturing him with an extra burst of agony…

His vision blurred, and everything seemed to be obscured by a grey mist, but then Elizabeth emerged from the obscurity, he could see her clearly, and he could feel her warm hands on his face.

"Will? Look at me, stay with me! You're all right!"

As badly as he wished that the words were true, Will knew that Elizabeth didn't believe them any more than he did.

He wanted to say something to her, to tell her one more time that he loved her because she was an angel, she was _his_ angel; but he couldn't speak, he couldn't even breathe, and everything was fading into the pain…

Suddenly he was dimly aware that there was someone else next to him, but he couldn't turn his head to see who. He felt something in his hand, but he didn't know what…

_Let me tell her I love her, one more time,_ he thought desperately. _Please, just one more time…_ But he couldn't. His vision was darkening at the edges, and the sounds of the fight and the storm and even Elizabeth's voice seemed so far away.

_But I'm not ready to leave her yet… I'm not – _


	2. In Between

**Falls the Sword**

Chapter 2: In Between

Everything was black. He didn't move, wasn't sure he could have if he'd wanted to, but he didn't try. At least there was no more pain; he thanked God for that. But there was nothing else either, and the oblivion in itself was frightening.

He felt like he was floating, in a way, but he couldn't tell where he was, or, for that matter, how long he'd been there. Whether it had been years or only seconds, all he could see in his mind's eye was Elizabeth, and he knew that he had to get back, back to where he'd come from before he'd ended up here – but then he reminded himself that he couldn't go back, because he had died in that world, and you can't come back from that… right?

Both Jack and Barbossa had managed it, but they'd both had help – the kind of help that Will didn't think he was likely to get. There was no obeah priestess to call him back, no Locker to rescue him from. And besides, what did his life matter? He wasn't one of the Pirate Lords. His life didn't matter to anyone, except Elizabeth. Just her. No one else. Before today, he might have thought that it would matter to his father, but now he couldn't even be sure of that. Elizabeth was all he had left, and now he would never see her again.

There were lights in the darkness. He wasn't sure how long they'd been there; all he knew was that he was suddenly aware of them. He didn't know exactly what they were either, but he could tell that they came from two sources, one above him and one below.

The one above him was pure white, the brightest he had ever seen, so much so that he found he couldn't even look at it.

The second light, the one far below him, was a ruddy reddish-orange, flickering like a burning flame, scorching and deadly.

But even as he looked down at it, he became aware that is was moving farther and farther away, and the white light from above was growing stronger. It was warm and beautiful, calling to mind memories of happier times and people he'd loved, even some memories that he had long since forgotten: his very early childhood in Glasgow, Scotland, before his father had left to go pirating; he and his mother moving to England after she finally accepted that Bill Turner was never coming back. From there he flashed briefly through his mother's death and that fateful voyage to the Caribbean, before his mind finally settled on his adolescence in Port Royal: he worked so hard in the blacksmith shop that Mr. Brown didn't mind if he slipped out for a few hours, or even a whole day on occasion, and he would take the opportunity to spend time with Elizabeth. Sometimes she would already be waiting in their favorite spot in the woods, hoping that he would be able to come; other times he would sneak through the gardens behind the Governor's Mansion and throw rocks at her window until she appeared, and then it was a simple matter of remaining out of sight until she convinced her father to let her go out "for a walk." Then they could spend as long as they liked playing pirates on the beach, with sticks and twigs as their swords and knives. He loved watching her laugh at the theatrical performances he gave when she pretended to kill him after a long battle on the high seas…

But then they grew up, and she wasn't allowed to go out "walking" anymore, because one too many people had seen the governor's daughter spending time with the blacksmith's apprentice – who, as the town gossips liked to remind each other, had been orphaned before his arrival in Jamaica, and therefore had no connections at all and no business with a young woman of high society – and suddenly Elizabeth had all but vanished from his life. He was left to his blacksmithing, and she was meticulously taught how to be a lady.

Again, scenes and images flashed by rapidly, until suddenly he found himself standing boldly in front of Governor Swann and James Norrington and Elizabeth – beautiful, perfect Elizabeth – and he watched himself speak the words that would change his life forever:

"I should have told you every day from the moment I met you… I love you."

He saw their first kiss, that perfect moment on the battlements of Fort Charles, when the wild joy that filled his heart was reflected in her shining eyes…

After that it was a whirlwind of memories of their one amazing year together, planning the wedding and dreaming of a future spent with each other – until the day Cutler Beckett arrived and shattered those hopes like glass, glass that would cut into his heart and even into his very soul, leaving him torn between the father he wouldn't abandon and the woman he loved more than life itself.

"_Will? Come on, __please__. William…"_

The words were faint and quiet, as though heard over a great distance, but they were enough to snap Will out of his reverie.

"_You have to come back to me, kid. Please…"_

There was another light now, not as bright as the one above him, but moving steadily toward him – or maybe he was moving toward it? – and then it engulfed him and hazy, grey shapes began to spin dizzily before his eyes…

* * *

When I started writing this chapter, I didn't actually intend to put in all the memories and reminiscing and stuff... it just sort of happened, and I liked it, so I left it. That seems to happen to me a lot...


	3. Coming Back

****Okay, so it's been two months since this story was last updated. I have one word: _Pinterest_. I blame everything on Pinterest.

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**Falls the Sword**

Chapter 3: Coming Back

The grey shapes swirled disconcertingly around him in the dim, faint light, blurred and indistinct, but gradually he realized that they were solidifying, becoming recognizable shapes. And then the light narrowed into a thin, horizontal beam across his vision, and that was when he realized, with startling suddenness, that he was conscious.

"Will, hey… can you hear me?"

The voice – his father's voice, as he now realized – sounded much closer this time. Suddenly he was aware of a hand firmly gripping his shoulder, of the hard deck that he was laying on, of

Pain.

_No… not again…_

He moaned quietly, unconsciously curling into a ball as fire spread through his chest, emanating from the wound in his heart and radiating outward. His hands were clenched into fists; tears pricked at his eyes, but they were squeezed tightly shut, and none could escape. He let out another anguished moan, praying for it to stop.

But then, through the haze of pain, he heard his father for a fourth time, one word spoken quietly but firmly: "_Will_."

Breathing heavily and shaking uncontrollably, barely even able to whisper, he finally managed a weak answer.

"Dad…"

He heard a quiet sigh, and Bill Turner's voice was laced with relief. "I hear you, kid. I'm right here."

* * *

Will couldn't be sure how long it was before the pain at last began to fade. Once it had settled into a dull throb, he slowly opened his eyes, the bright sunlight nearly blinding him.

"Need a hand?"

Squinting, he looked up and saw his father standing over him, holding a hand out to him. He took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Swaying unsteadily, he gripped the rail next to him as he was assailed by waves of nausea. Seeming to know exactly what Will was feeling, Bill held a canteen of water out to him.

"This should help."

Will took it without hesitation and downed the entire contents in a matter of seconds, relieved to find that it did, in fact, settle his stomach.

And only then, once the pain had faded and the nausea had died away, did Will realize what was wrong.

His chest was empty.

A memory flashed though his mind, the hazy image of a person beside him just before he died, placing something in his hand… and then he knew.

He turned to his father, whispered quietly, "I can't leave this ship, can I?"

The sadness was obvious in Bill's eyes as he answered with one word, just as quietly.

"No."

Will turned away wordlessly, staring at the unchanging waves below, until he heard movement behind him, and an unfamiliar voice.

"Captain?"

He turned around and stared at the sailor, a crewman he had never seen before, in some confusion. It felt wrong, all wrong, to be standing on this ship – the most feared ship in the world, the ship that had plagued his nightmares since his first encounter with it just a few short months before – to stand on _this ship_ and be called 'captain'.

The man approached hesitantly. "We – the crew, that is – we were just wondering what – what exactly we should do… sir."

"I – I don't…" He turned to his father, his eyes wordlessly asking for help.

"You're running the show now, kid," Bill said quietly. "They'll do whatever you tell them to. So… what do you want to do?"

Will's gaze travelled slowly over the ship – _his_ ship – and now he saw it not as a nightmare, but as something entirely different: a weapon. The most powerful weapon on the seas. A spark gleamed deep in his eyes.

"I want to go back." He looked at his father, at the crewman who was still standing nearby, watching him expectantly. "I want to go back to the battle. Because I've got the best ship in the world, and I've got a lot of friends and someone I love in a hell of a lot of trouble right now, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to use this ship to get them out of it!"

A proud smile settled onto Bill's face as he turned to the sailor next to him. "You heard the man. Take us back."

The crewman grinned. "Aye, sir!" Immediately he turned and ran down the stairs to the main deck, shouting as he went, "We're going back!"

Bill started to follow, but then stopped and turned back to his son, pulling something out of his pocket. "No self-respecting pirate captain goes anywhere without one of these."

Will couldn't help but smile as his father pressed a pale green bandana into his hand.

* * *

Having the captaincy of the most powerful ship in the world thrust without warning onto his shoulders was startling, to say the least. It was intimidating, even a little frightening. He didn't know the first thing about how this ship worked or what he was supposed to do with it. He didn't even know the first thing about being in command of a ship.

Therefore, it was with some surprise that he found, when he stepped forward to take his place at the helm, that he had never felt more confident in his life. He didn't know exactly what to do, but he didn't care. The crew knew well enough, and as long as they ended up in the right place, there was no doubt in Will's mind that he could do what needed done. He could, and he _would_.

After the Dutchman exploded from the ocean in a deluge of salty spray, it took Will only seconds to assess the situation and decide what he would do. Almost directly across from him he could see the Black Pearl. To his left was the Endeavor. Beckett might not know that Jones was dead. But Jack knew. He knew who was in charge of the Dutchman now, and he would definitely know what Will was thinking. Will was sure of it.

Before he could act, a series of strange noises behind him made him turn, and what he saw was nothing short of a miracle. The entire crew of the Dutchman was on deck, but they were not the same crew that had been there before. They were changing before his very eyes. As he watched, the barnacles, the coral, all of the various forms of sea life that had covered the sailors were simply melting off, leaving behind… men. No longer terrifying specters doomed to service to the Flying Dutchman, but _men_, free now from their curse. One by one, as each man slowly realized what had happened, they turned to look at their new captain, their expressions a mixture of respect and gratitude, and in that moment Will knew that they were behind him. He didn't think twice.

"Ready on the guns!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, crewman were scrambling into action. In no time at all, the cannons were run out and ready, and there came an answering shout of, "Guns ready!"

Across the water, the Pearl was making similar preparations. Her sails were full and billowing, her cannons ready and waiting for action. As Will grabbed the wheel and swung the Dutchman sharply to the left, he could see the Pearl mirroring the movement, finally settling into a course parallel to his own. The Endeavor sat in the water directly ahead.

* * *

"_FIRE!_"

Even as he yelled the command, he could hear it echoing from the Pearl as well. Immediately the guns began to fire, and a torrent of hot lead screamed deafeningly toward the Endeavor, tearing through the ship as if the wood were no thicker than a sheet of paper. The Dutchman's deck was vibrating beneath his feet, shaking with the rhythm of the guns.

And just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The combined shot from the Pearl and the Dutchman found the Endeavor's powder magazine, and within seconds a titanic explosion had blown the ship into bits. And in the end, the smoking, broken remains of the hull tilted until it was completely vertical, and the ship sank beneath the waves, disappearing from sight, leaving nothing to show that it had even existed except for bits of debris scattered far and wide across the surface of the sea.

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Reviews are wonderful, magical things that have the power of making me happier than anything else. Except for mint chocolate chip ice cream. But happier than anything other than that.


	4. Dying Again

Here it is: the oh-so-depressing final chapter. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, and let me know what you think of the ending!

And, if any Doctor Who fans happen to read this, I suggest going on Youtube and searching for the soundtrack music from the Tenth Doctor's regeneration, 'Vale Decem'. Listening to it while you read this works surprisingly well.

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**Falls the Sword**

Chapter 4: Dying Again

She was so close. So very close, and yet so far away. She was on the Pearl, he was on the Dutchman… and that was the way it was going to stay. They had one day, just _one day_ to say everything that needed to be said. One day to hold on to for the next ten years.

He shivered involuntarily. Ten years. He tried to remember how long ten years really was. He had only been eleven, ten years ago. He hadn't even met Elizabeth yet.

Ten years was a _long_ damn time.

He didn't even know his father was behind him until he spoke. "Orders, Captain?"

'_Orders?_' he thought blankly. '_What kind of orders? What exactly is a captain supposed to… oh, never mind. It doesn't matter anyway._'

"You're no longer bound to the Dutchman. You're free." It hurt just to say it. Freedom was something that Will himself no longer had any claim to. His father's next words almost didn't even register, until he replayed them in his head. '_Did he just say he wouldn't leave?_' That was certainly more than he'd dared to hope for, and it meant more to him than he could ever say.

"On the wheel, then, Mr. Turner."

"Aye, Captain Turner."

Now that the adrenaline rush from the battle was wearing off, he again felt the jarring sensation that accompanied being addressed as 'Captain'. He wondered if he could convince the crew not to call him that.

But the thought quickly faded from his mind, because Elizabeth was still there, close and far away at the same time, staring sadly at him across the water.

"This ship has a purpose again..." Again, Bill Turner's quiet words startled his son out of his reverie. "And where we are bound, she cannot come. One day ashore, ten years at sea. It's a steep price for what's been done."

'_I know_,' Will thought despondently. But all he said was, "Depends on the one day."

* * *

"I – I love you. I love you so much." Of all the things he had wanted to tell her, wanted to make sure she knew, it was all he could say when he finally got the chance.

She tried to smile at him. "I know. I've always known." Her eyes filled with tears. "I love you, too."

"Elizabeth… I – I can't…"

She frowned, concerned. "What's wrong?"

Will swallowed hard, forced the words out. "Ten years is – I can't ask you to wait that long. You deserve your own life. I'll understand if… if you don't want to – "

Elizabeth pressed her fingers against her lips to silence him. "Will…" She shook her head. "Don't you let yourself think like that. I will _never_ abandon you. If I had to wait my whole life for you, I would. When you come back in ten years, I am going to be the first person you see." She kissed him softly. "I promise."

Eyes shining, Will pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, unable to imagine being apart from her for so long.

"I love you so much."

* * *

All he could think as he looked at the sunset was that it had come too soon. Days were supposed to last longer than this; the sun couldn't be going down already.

"It's nearly sunset."

There was just one thing left to say, one more thing he had to take care of before he had to leave. It felt strange to hear his own heart beating inside the chest…

"It's always belonged to you. Will you keep it safe?"

"Yes." She stepped forward, took it carefully from him, nodding reassuringly. "Yes."

It was all a blur from there. He needed to remember this moment, to memorize her face; he had to be able to hold onto this. And then he was turning away, leaving behind the most important person in his world, until she called him back, and he held her one last time, kissed her one last time…

'_I'm not ready to leave her yet…_'

* * *

He was back on the Flying Dutchman. Less than a second ago he had been with her, but now he was standing there on the Dutchman, staring back at the beach he had just left, and everything in him was breaking, shattering, and falling apart; and this time the tears simply could not be stopped, because the pain that he could feel filling him as the green flash lit up the sky and the island vanished from sight made him feel as if he were dying again.

~FIN~

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I just broke my number one rule of fanfiction writing. I promised myself when I started that I would always find a way to write a happy ending. Well... I didn't this time. I think it was worth it, though. Thanks for reading!


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